House of Cards
by Soaring Birds
Summary: marauders era. Rated T because of drug use.. First chapter is angsty, but i'm going to try to make the next chapter abit comedic.


House of Cards

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I make a profit from this fanfiction.

Note: This one-shot contains material that may not be suitable to some readers, especially young and naiive ones.

Also, readers please be aware that the term 'toking' means smoking, usually an illegal substance.

* * *

><p>Sirius Black was drinking again.<p>

Remus caught his best friend taking shots of firewhiskey with a few good for nothing Ravenclaws in between classes. These Ravenclaws were the people you never looked in the eye; because if you did, they would take it as a challenge and hex the unicorns out of you. On the days that Sirius actually attended classes, his replies would be slurred when professors called on him for answers. And he didn't care, not one bit. Some people thought he was going a bit mad. But in the general populations eyes he was still the comedian who had quick and witty remarks handy to disrupt any classroom whenever things were getting a bit boring. But Remus didn't believe it, Sirius wasn't the same and Remus could prove it. He had seen the proof.

Then there were the days that Remus spotted Sirius while gazing out the window during Remus's Arithmancy class. The eldest son of the noble house of Black would be standing on the outskirt of the grounds, passing pipes around the group of loser Hufflepuffs, each of them taking turns inhaling and exhaling streams of thick smoke. On those days, when Remus met Sirius at the marauders corner of the great hall for lunch, Sirius would reek of gillyweed and his eyes would be so red (to anyone who asked why, Sirius would say, "I rubbed apples on them") and he would spend a lot of the time gazing into space (and whenever Remus or another marauder asked what was on Sirius's mind, the guy would say something nonchalant like, Nice day isn't it? And they left it that at that.) When they all met at the common room after dinner, Sirius was the first to go up to bed. (Blaming his sleepiness on the classes (which he only attended less than half of the time)) Things weren't the same anymore. There were no more late night trips to the kitchens, no games of exploding snap, no pranks on slytherins, no jokes about professors, no anything.

Sirius Black was toking again.

Remus assumed that Sirius would reach breaking point and then learn the error of his ways, but his longtime friend was spending so much time losing the battle with the gillyweed and the booze, that Remus feared that Sirius's breaking point would result in Sirius's death. Soon enough, his pipe and bottles became more important to him than his books and his best friends; the marauders were replaced with the drunk ravenclaws and stoned hufflepuffs. The rest of the marauders were broken hearted, (mostly Remus and James, since Peter had no heart.) At first the marauders tried to shake Sirius free of the druggie scum that was holding him down, but he insisted those losers were his "friends" and that ("the marauders are just jealous that I've found cooler friends." Sirius had said.)

In the back of his mind, Sirius knew this wasn't about his friends. In fact, it had nothing to do with them. Sirius knew the root of his problems layed in his family tree. "To be a death eater, or not to be.. that is indeed the fucking question." the drunken Sirius would whisper to himself.  
>Sirius rememebered a time, way back, a long long time ago, when he was just a kid, when his parents loved him. When they cared about how he was feeling, and how he was doing and what his plans were for that day. Sirius had loved his parents then.<p>

It was when Sirius was nine years old when all those things started to change. It began when his father decided that the age of nine is a perfect age to be introduced to muggle hunting. "It's a great game." His father said, patting the top of Sirius's hair. "It will get you prepared for your death eater days."

His father was smiling at him, so Sirius smiled back. But he was confused. "Death eater days?" He repeated.

"Son, let me tell you something." He pulled Sirius onto his knee and looked at him sternly. "In this world, there are winners and losers. Are you a winner or a loser?"

Sirius looked up at his dad, and he thought hard. Sirius considered his dad to be a winner, and Sirius wanted to be just like him. "I'm a winner dad, just like you are."

"That's my boy." His father grinned. "Well son, all winners become death eaters."

"How come?"

"Winners are pure and noble, and we become death eaters to protect those traits. You see son, there are people out there, filthy disgusting people, who will try to take your purity and nobility away from you."

"How come?" Sirius asked again.

"Jealousy? Greed? God only knows. Son, the thing is, if you want to keep your purity and nobilty then you must become a death eater."

"Okay, I'll do it dad. I'll become a death eater, just like you."

"That's my boy! Now, what do you say about some muggle hunting? You up for it?"

"Hellz yeah!"

"That's my boy!"

* * *

><p>The tears<p>

trickled from her eyes

like water

drips off a storm pipe,

down into the slippery slopes of mud and filth

is where she lays, dying.

The red metallic blood,

soaks his robes

his shoes

his socks

his skin.

Her blood stains him

like a blot of ink stains bed-sheets,

her blood stains his soul.

As the light fades

from her eyes

he turns away

can't bare to see it

can't bare to watch it unfold

infront of his eyes

any longer

* * *

><p>When Sirius awoke from his nightmare, his first impression was that he was soaked in blood. After catching his breath and taking deep slow breaths to calm his heart-rate, Sirius noticed that he was only soaked in his own sweat.<p>

There were other nightmares like this one, deep long-ago memories that never left him alone, even when he was asleep.

They would never leave him alone, not ever.


End file.
